Lovesick
by TheSilverHunt3r
Summary: Dazai had an oval shaped soulmark on his cheek. It was black, pitch black. He covered it with make up. Fem Chuuya x Dazai, Soulmate AU, oneshot.


Summary: Dazai had an oval shaped soulmark on his cheek. It was black, pitch black. He covered it with make up. Fem Chuuya x Dazai, Soulmate AU, oneshot.

"I am absolutely unmistakably positively smitten with you."

\--Unknown

"She is poetry in a dress. Although I must confess, she's quite difficult to read."

\--Lynette Simeone

Soulmates were found through physical contact. Some people had a black spot somewhere on their body. When their soulmate touched it, it turned into an array of colors.

Dazai had an oval shaped soulmark on his cheek. It was black, pitch black. He covered it with makeup. Most criminals hid their soulmarks-it was a sign of vulnerability, a weakness.

XXX

Age 17

Dazai was sitting at the bar. He didn't like these parties, but was stuck going tonight. Someone had to be a representative of 'Mori Corporation'.

He caught a flash of red out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head slightly, tracking the splash of color.

It was a woman, with red hair, wearing a dress of same shade. She seemed to be an escort, accompanying a middle-aged businessman. They sat at the bar, near Dazai.

Being closer and not surrounded by a flood of people, Dazai could pick out her features better.

She was on the short side. Her dress hugged her figure. Her long red hair-red as newly spilt blood-trailed down her back. She was beautiful.

Her client left to go do something. Dazai walked towards her.

Her eyes were a stunningly bright blue. Her cute bow-shaped lips were painted red. She picked up her drink-some sort of sweet wine-to her lips. Although rather petite, she didn't look as if a breeze could blow her over-lean muscle lined her body.

"Is there a reason you're staring?" The woman said, her snarl covered by a thin veneer of politeness.

Dazai's heart sped up. His eyes were glued to her face. He smiled. "Sorry, admiring great beauty is a habit of mine," he replied smoothly.

The woman raised a delicate eyebrow, eyes slightly narrowed. She gave up most of the pretense of being cordial. "A habit? How often do you take part in this habit of yours?" She replied tartly.

Dazai felt lighthearted, his heart racing in his chest. His brain was currently memorizing her features and the cute way she pitched her voice when she was being sarcastic. His silver tongue ran on autopilot, carefully spitting out a slightly cheesy, "Unfortunately, it's very rare to find something truly beautiful, as I have tonight."

The woman snorted. "And what truly beautiful things have you found?"

Dazai hummed, pondering. He turned his gaze from the woman to the wall, seeing the landscapes of nearby places he had been. This reply required some thought. He slowly answered, "Three of them are the many colored sunsets over the port, a forest of cherry trees in full bloom, and a local park in the middle of summer full of lively animals, plants, and people. But I must admit, none of them came close to being as breathtaking as you in that dress."

The woman laughed softly. "You have a rather poetic tongue." She caught sight of something from the corner of her eye. "Excuse me, I must be going."

Dazai could only watch as she turned away from him. His words failed him. He could only admire her figure from behind before she disappeared into the crowd of party-goers.

XXX

He couldn't find her.

Dazai only knew what she looked like. He didn't even know her name. She was a plus one to an invited guest, so she wouldn't be on the list of attendees.

He scowled. He was unused to feeling frustrated. He was unused to not being able to do something. Before last night he was almost always in control of everything and everyone around him.

But yet there Dazai had been, the Port Mafia's famous Demon Prodigy, distracted and tongue-tied. And now he was unable to find anything on someone connected to Japan's underworld.

He clicked his tongue and leaned back in his chair.

XXX

Dazai scanned the crowds of people for red. Around him, the flashy colors clumped together in a meaningless hodgepodge. But as usual, he was dressed in dead-of-night black, which contrasted with his pure white bandages and button-up shirt.

"Hello," he heard from beside him.

Dazai's breath caught in his throat, hope choking him. He turned his head to see the owner of the voice.

It was her.

"Hello," Dazai replied. His voice was even, although his eyes lit up and a slight smile crossed onto his face.

They didn't mention their pasts, or themselves, aside from a brief mention of hobbies-she liked gardening, he liked reading.

He didn't ask what she did to her client. It was enough that he caught sight of the knife in her purse. She simply needed some time to draw less attention before leaving the party. She only used him as a convenient distraction and way to blend in. But… at least she had remembered him, that was something, a foundation to build on.

She didn't ask who he was. She already knew he was Port Mafia, and since he attended high level parties, he was pretty high in the chain of command. And with the bandages and the chilling aura she saw disappear from him when she announced herself, she didn't doubt his identity. He was likely a Port Mafia Executive, the Demon Prodigy.

They stood on the edge of the party. One dressed in blue, one dressed in black. They were wraiths, who would disappear at the end of the night.

It was her who did it first. She started it with a casual comment about a lady nearby. "What wonderful shades of green, yellow, and blue."

"Yes, rather striking," Dazai dryly agreed. How should he word it? In the meantime, he decided to play along. "Almost as if she paid a three year old to finger paint her skirt, rather pragmatic of her." He smirked and threw out, "She has similar fashion sense to that man over there. He is bold, setting a fashion statement, what with him being dressed in a hot pink suit."

"Perhaps he decided to draw inspiration from a flamingo?" The woman suggested, her biting sarcasm blatant.

"What do you think that couple over there drew inspiration from? His neon colors mix well with her pastel. Perhaps they simply forgot to coordinate?" Dazai questioned, a hand on his chin. Never mind that. What should he ask for, a date or her number? Or both?

He was indecisive, possibilities swirling through his head as he bantered with her.

They were wraiths, who would disappear at the end of the night. But he didn't want her to disappear.

She smiled. "Excuse me, I have to leave. It was a pleasure talking you."

He gave up on any complex ideas. He had to act now, before she left again. He smiled. "Same to you. I am Osamu Dazai."

"Chuuya."

Dazai smiled softly. "I assume that's your first name, Chuuya?" The name sounds good on his tongue; He wondered how Chuuya Dazai would feel.

"Yes."

Dazai grinned. He had an opening there. "Then you can call me Osamu. It's only fair," he proposed.

Chuuya's lips twitched upwards as she turned away.

XXX

Age 18

It was the third time they had met. He ignored the butterflies playing games in his uneasy stomach and the strong rapid beat of his heart. He was determined. He had to ask her out tonight, or he never would.

But he glanced at her again, and the words caught in his throat. He swallowed them and moved further away into the crowd as her client came back.

He waited for her to come back, alone. He drank some whiskey to dull his nerves. Dazai tapped his fingers impatiently against the bar as he tried to relax for a few minutes.

A flash of red exited from the hallway behind the ballroom, catching his eye.

Game plan. Game plan. He didn't really have any? Unless… He did what he had been trained to do and framed it as a favor he was doing for her. He would logic it-that might be the only way he could ask her out.

Dazai pasted a smile on his face and approached her. "Chuuya, a pleasure to see you."

"Osamu," Chuuya nodded. "To you as well."

She always started out polite with him, but he always managed to chip away at her patience and restraint. And then she would argue with him and trade snarky comments and be hilariously blunt.

He decided to also take a page from her book. Because he had counted the time, measured the distance allowed, and someone was going to find the dead body of her client sometime soon. "Would you like to leave together? It's a bit less conspicuous for a beautiful lady to arrive with one man and leave with another, than leave alone," he suggested with a wink.

Chuuya tilted her head, eyes focused. Her gaze seemed to pierce through him, tearing his thoughts and the hidden meaning of his words out for her to see. She gave an eye-smile. "That would be much appreciated."

They left together. They walked out onto the city streets, both more relaxed now. Dazai bought ice cream from a 24-hour-store, and they sat on a hill, watching the stars.

Their masks fell completely, surrounded by a small pocket of nature, the grey-black dark, and the cool wind.

They finished off their ice cream and settled back into the tall grass. The hill would probably be mowed soon, but for now the grass was dark green with long blades.

They told silly made-up stories about fake constellations. Chuuya's made some sense, such as a farmer's wife selling vegetables and a lamppost surrounded by snow. Dazai's contributions were particularly absurd. He took joy in combining several already made constellations and making up scenarios for what was going on. His completely original ones consisted of slightly more mundane ones, like three squiggly lines being a family of worms.

The night was drawing to a close, daybreak only a few short hours away.

Chuuya sat up. She brushed away the bits of grass on her dress. She turned slightly and leaned down, kissing him on the cheek.

Dazai stopped breathing for several seconds. His brain had short-circuited. His heart beat wildly in his chest.

He was unable to say anything as she left. He was unable to open his mouth, not even to stammer out a goodbye.

Dazai touched his cheek and pulled his hand away. He stared at the smudge of red on his fingers.

XXX

Dazai used a tissue to wipe the red lipstick off of his fingers. Then he took the red smudge and makeup off his cheek.

He stared.

He was right.

The oval shaped mark on his cheek was no longer black.

He laughed. Relief shook through his body. He had an explanation, a reason.

XXX

He searched for her at the next few parties.

She wasn't there. She had noticed.

Of course she had.

But she had to come back, for her jobs. It was a major part of her M.O., the way she did things as an assassin.

Dazai whipped his head around-a spot of red hair in his peripheral. He weaved through the crowd, eyes focused on that spot.

He took his chance and grabbed her hand. He smiled and cheerfully said, "There you are!" He tugged her towards the edges of the room.

Making a scene wouldn't be good for her, she wanted to stay incognito. Being unknown, blending in among high society was one of her best advantages as an assassin. She couldn't jeopardize it.

They went into a hallway and then into an empty room.

Chuuya was silent, a sad look on her face. Her eyes lacked their usual fire. She looked resigned.

He didn't like that look.

He held her chin between his fingers, gently. Dazai ran his thumb along her lips, heavily smudging his thumb in red. His eyes were focused on her lips, he wanted to see beneath the bright lipstick she had hidden them under.

They were beautiful, containing every color Dazai could think of.

It was a soulmark. Her soulmark. . . or would it be his soulmark?

"Osamu," she said, a warning.

He wasn't going to lose her. He would convince her, no matter what. The burning desperation swept his anxieties and irrelevant thoughts aside. Dazai slid his hand up, cradling her cheek. "You just have to look unattached to your targets, not be unattached. Right?" Dazai proposed. His usual smile had fallen, leaving him with a dark frown and furrowed eyebrows. His eyes held hope despite being such a cynical person. "We can make this work, if we try."

A small hand slipped around his, dragging it down. She fit their hands together, his long slender fingers dwarfing hers. "Alright," she conceded, in a quiet, hopeful tone.

Dazai grinned at her, a bright grin full of overflowing joy. He hadn't lost.

XXX

Age 20

Dazai had invited her out to a cafe. They talked for a while. Seizing upon a moment of silence, he pushed a wrapped box onto the table with a smile. "Early birthday present," he explained.

Chuuya smiled and thanked him. She unwrapped it. She gasped upon seeing her present, almost squealing but withholding the urge.

"Oh, so you like it?" Dazai asked with a smile. He propped his chin on his hand.

"It's cute, okay?" Chuuya replied defensively.

Dazai gave an eye-smile. He knew she loved cute things, it was why he'd bought it.

XXX

Age 21

Out of the Armed Detective Agency, Dazai often volunteered to handle the investigations at parties. He did them solo.

Dazai was trying to focus on what the couple sitting behind him was saying. But he couldn't help but get distracted by Chuuya-she had intertwined their hands. Not to mention he seemed unusually unable to focus on anything else but her when she was around.

"Got your mind on something else again?" Chuuya asked. She smiled knowingly.

"Sorry, it's work," Dazai replied with an apologetic tone.

"It's fine, Osamu." Chuuya chuckled. "Since I have been doing the same, it'd be a bit hypocritical of me to ask you to not think of work while we're here."

"Happy to have you on board." Dazai flashed her a brilliant smile. Camouflaging as a couple worked both ways for staying inconspicuous. "I'll try not to do it often," he promised.

XXX

Age 22

They were here for business. Dazai had managed to get an invite to the party, but he hadn't managed to go alone. Fukuzawa had decided to send along his partner and the rookie.

Dazai was relaxed, comfortable. He hummed along to the music of the band in the nearby ballroom.

Atsushi twitched nervously as they walked down the hallway.

Kunikida was stiff.

A woman rounded the corner. She was notably beautiful and wore a black dress.

Dazai grinned. "Chuuya," he chirped, quickly approaching her without hesitation.

Atsushi winced.

Kunikida scowled, ready to smack his partner and apologize. He paused, however.

Unlike the other times Dazai had gotten like this with women, he didn't seem about to spontaneously hug the woman or kiss her hand or anything like that. He was just as cheerful, but seemed less… silly. There was a sort of respect and restraint in how he acted around her.

The woman smiled. "Osamu, it's been awhile. How have things been going?"

"Rather well." Dazai nonchalantly gestured behind him. "These are my colleagues, Atsushi and Kunikida," he introduced.

"Hello, Miss," Atsushi greeted awkwardly. He gave a small wave.

Chuuya smiled at him. "He's too adorable," she muttered to Dazai. "How'd you end up with a cinnamon roll for a rookie?"

Dazai chuckled. "Found him by a river actually." He tilted his head, putting a hopeful look on his face. "Actually, we're trying to find our way somewhere."

"Dazai," Kunikida warned.

"And where would that be?" Chuuya wondered innocently, playing along.

Dazai held his chin in a thinking gesture, ignoring his partner. "Well, if you could point us in the direction of our host's office, we'd much appreciate it."

"Dazai," Kunikida growled, close to hitting his partner.

Atsushi sighed at his mentor's shenanigans.

"Ah, you're heading the right way, just take a left. And please don't make a commotion," Chuuya advised.

Dazai pecked her on the cheek as he passed her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Chuuya smiled and walked down the hall towards the ballroom.

"Dazai-san, who was that?" Atsushi asked, curious.

"Chuuya," Dazai replied with an eye-smile, as if that answered everything.

Atsushi frowned. Dazai was being purposefully vague-there was no way to get anything out of him like this.

"Alright, we're ahead of schedule for once. Let's go," Kunikida urged.

They got what they came for. On their way out, Dazai slipped away unnoticed.

XXX

The rooftop of the skyscraper was cold.

"Now we have some time to chat," Fyodor Dostoyevsky said. His coat was tugged at by the wind.

Chuuya glared at him. She had her hand on her knife sheath, ready to fight.

"I wondered what he saw in you," Fyodor explained.

Chuuya shrugged. "I don't know." She pulled out her knife, leveling it at the Russian. "But I don't trust your judgement in looking."

XXX

Dazai was reading a book. His phone rang-he picked up. "How'd the meet and greet go?"

"Fyodor is an a*shole," Chuuya snarled.

"It must have been really bad. I don't think I've ever heard you curse." Dazai chuckled. "If he shows up again, do tell me."

Chuuya tilted her chin up. "I can take care of him," she asserted. She smirked. "I could take you out, too, if I wanted.

"I know. And I love it." Dazai grinned softly.

A/N

This was pretty fun to write. The idea of smitten, bumbling Dazai is just hilarious.

-Silver


End file.
